


A Crow Christmas Miracle

by pinkroses5508



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Chinese Myths, Christmas, James T. Kirk - Freeform, M/M, Spock - Freeform, Tarsus IV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 15:19:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7806958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkroses5508/pseuds/pinkroses5508
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim hates Christmas. It didn't start that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Crow Christmas Miracle

  
Jim hated Christmas.

It didn't start like that though. At first, he was confused when he started school and had found out about Christmas and the present giving and the turkey and the Christmas tree. Nobody at home had ever done that - instead of presents there were forlorn looks from his mother; instead of the turkey there was tinned food from the cupboard him and Sam were made to make themselves. And instead of a Christmas tree was the empty and rotting fireplace in the living room. Suffice to say, Christmas was a taboo in his home and his life.

What made it even worse was that the first time he had Christmas - with the decorations and the trimmings and _fucking everything_ \- had ended in bloodshed. Governor Kodos had slaughtered over four thousand people on that day after all.

And if that wasn't bad enough, Grandpa Tiberius had died on Christmas Eve - was killed on the way to Jim's childhood home as a surprise by a mugging gone wrong. Nobody knew what happened until Boxing Day when an officer had knocked on the door and told a crying Winona and a blank looking Jim. The next few hours Jim had holed himself in the family's barn, fists hitting the haystack. Grandpa Tiberius had been the one to help him when he'd returned from Tarsus IV.

So his hatred of the festive holiday had been reasonable. He never celebrated for these reasons, and he never thought he'd endure any of it ever again if he could help it. This worked until he went to Starfleet.

He cursed Captain Pike when the old man pushed him into enlisting. Yes; he loved the classes and the intelligence he was surrounded by, but when the holidays came round he hid in his dorm room. He didn't expect to find a red gift wrapped present sitting innocently at the end of his bed when he woke up on Christmas morning.

Turns out Bones, his roommate and personal doctor aka _grumpy southern pants_ , had given into his polite urges or his southern manners, Jim never found out which, and had brought him a sweater. It was a blue sweater, dark blue, and it was incredibly baggy, but it was such a sweet thing that made Jim panic. He hadn't gotten anything for Bones - he'd thought the older doctor wasn't into Christmas due to his bitter demeanour - and he would have to spill all his secrets. Which he did. After getting drunk on Bones' secret stash of bourbon and rum.

After that, Christmas wasn't something celebrated between the two. But if either of them found a rare whiskey or a book of languages or a book of xenobiology under their pillow before or after the holidays, neither mentioned it.

These little things were what both expected, and what Jim expected when he became captain of the _USS Enterprise_. He strived to be an approachable captain, not one who is strictly about protocols and professionalism between himself and his crew. He was a social creature, and he wanted to be able to talk to crew members without the formality. Turned out this strategy bit him back in the ass.

It all started with Sulu.

~×~

"Sir, can I please talk to you...privately?" Sulu asked, some apprehension plainly seeable on his face. His shoulders were still, tension clear in his small statue.

Jim was visibly startled; the captain was in such deep thoughts he didn't even acknowledge the outside world from his mind. He was complementing the idea of locking himself in his quarters for the next few weeks - to get away from the over cheerful crew members, and from his senior officers' continuous blabber about their holiday festive activities. "Uh, sure, Sulu." He stood up from his seat and faced the back of his first officer. "Mr Spock; you have the conn."

He left the bridge, Lieutenant Sulu in tow, and walked straight through the turbolift. Briskly, the captain strolled down the bright, sterile-white corridors; Sulu nervously following behind his commanding officer. His fingers fidgeted as the captain halted by a door, put in his code and unlocked the door to the Captain's Office. Jim stepped aside, gesturing for the young Asian to enter his office and quickly shut it behind himself.

"You said you wanted to talk to me?" The captain inquired as he moved round the office's desk, deciding to stand instead of sitting in his chair. Sulu, on the other hand, sat in the chair opposite Jim, looking anxiously down at his hands in his lap.

"Everyone - well, I mean _some_ of the crew wants to know if you would allow the ship celebrate Christmas. I mean," he started to stutter when he saw the impassive face showing on the captain's face, "you don't have to - don't feel pressured or obliged to do anything! You wouldn't have to do anything. Lots of people have already started to take charge of what they would do; hypothetically, of course."

"Sulu," the captain interrupted, holding up his hand to halt the anxious Asian. "Sorry. You were rambling." Sulu blushed; he knew he was rambling. But he couldn't of find a way to stop himself. "And your Christmas idea - I will allow it, as long as nobody's culture is discriminated against and the Christmas stuff is kept to a minimum. I don't want too many crew members hungover while on duty the next day, understood?" He sits in his chair, suddenly unable to hold himself up. _Stupid Christmas and stupid flashbacks._

"Aye, Sir."

Jim watched as the Asian lieutenant, weak with relief but bright in cheerfulness, left the office and immediately slouched in his leather chair as soon as the door slid behind the lieutenant. He sighs, banging his head against his desk. Why, oh why did the universe hate him so much?

Half an hour later, after several times of forcing back his grotesque memories, he enters the bridge, dismissing Lieutenant Giannous' "Captain on the bridge!" and waiting until Spock got up from the command chair before activating a ship-wide comm. announcement. He leaned over the arm of the chair, elbow tucked under his chin as he spoke; trying to sound like his usual self.

"This is James T. Kirk, your Captain. It has been brought to my attention that as Christmas is just around the corner, we have the chance to celebrate our first Christmas abroad the ship. During Christmas Day, Rec Room 5 will be opened for all crew members and later in the evening there will be a party. Any questions can be given to Helmsman Sulu as he is in charge of this." He ignored the sudden increase of chatter as he clicked off the ship-wide announcement, idly staring out the front screen as he leaned back in his chair.

He knew that he would be expected to show up at the stupid party - everybody knew he was a social person, and not showing up will rise suspicions. And he didn't want anybody to know about his less than wholesome childhood and adolescence.

He'll just go for half an hour. Make an appearance, chat to some of his crew, make an speech and leave immediately after. Yeah, that what he'd do. It's not like anything good will come out of Christmas. It never has.

He is considering to lock himself in his quarters again when the next mission turns to chaos.

~×~

Spock found the captain in observation deck four - the observation deck nobody really used as it was known the captain frequented there. Most of the crew either felt intimidated or uncomfortable to be looking for a possible encounter of their captain. Spock found it illogical; but has been slowly adapting to emotional human indulges. This time around, the half-Vulcan was grateful for this - it gave him an more sufficient theory of where the captain could be hiding.

The door to the deck was closed but unlocked. The captain shows that he wants to be alone but subconsciously desires company. Of who was not deducible - until the door slides open and Spock sees no southern doctor in sight. Which supports the theory that the captain wasn't going to shut Spock out. Spock knew McCoy would had tried to talk to the captain almost immediately after the disastrous mission on Planet Q. Seeing the man who'd killed and massacred over four thousand people and made his life a metaphorical living Terran Hell must agonise the captain. 

"Hey, Spock," Jim mumbles from where he sat on the couch, a half full bottle of ale of some sort in his hand. Spock squinted at the label and read 'Andorian Ale' in black lettering. A highly concentrated amount of intoxications and an higher chance of the person to become inebriated. Spock presumes the captain wanted to 'drink his sorrows away' as the human saying goes.

"Jim," Spock's voice was too loud in the dark, silent observation deck, "may I ask a personal query?" He takes the seat beside the blonde human, displaying he will not leave until he was sure the captain was better.

Jim, too numb to care, tilted slightly to the side as his blue eyes stared out the large, wall-length indestructible glass in front of the command duo. "You may."

Unnoticed by Jim, Spock swallowed discreetly before speaking. "It has been known in previous experiences that I have observed that Starfleet Officers, particularly commanding officers, become more efficient in their duties and responsibilities if they are more familiar with each other."

"Spock, get to the point," Jim said briskly. He was not in the mood to deal with cryptic sentences and spend time to translate them into normal Standard. His heart felt too heavy for him to sustain.

"May I know your most preferable story during your infancy?"

Jim slowly turned to face his first officer, eyebrow raised as he translated Spock Speak into Standard. "You want to know my favourite childhood story? Do you have one?"

"Vulcans do not have a 'favourite' of materials - it would not be logical," Spock denied. Jim doubted this; he's seen the way Vulcans prefer quietness and solitude than a mass amount of company. "However, my...mother was terribly fond of repeating paraphrases and dialogue from a Terran fantasy fiction during my childhood. I believe it was named _Alice's Adventures In Wonderland._ "

Jim's heart swelled a little. For Spock to talk about his mother, even something so miniscule that others would not appreciate or incline it was a huge matter, was astonishing. Jim did not how close their rapport, or acquaintance, or near friendship, or whatever it was called, showed the trust the half-Vulcan was giving him. Spock was not known for speaking of his personal life, especially of memories prior to Vulcan's destruction.

He got that - the need to protect anything personal and private from his life before joining Starfleet. And he found it incredibly hard to be vague in his early years. It was hardwired into him by his older brother to never answer paparazzi and never give information for the public to know if he didn't want it to bite him in the ass later in life.

Jim decided to return in kind, and more. "When I was little, my mother wasn't around a lot. I don't know if you had noticed or not but I'm near enough a spitting image of my father. I reminded her of what she lost when the Kelvin was destroyed along with George - her lover, her security, and her soulmate. She was never the same. My brother told me, when she returned with me only twelve days old, she wouldn't look at me in the way a mother should - she looked at me like she was spiting me for being a clone lookalike of her late husband."

Jim wet his lips. "Anyway, there were times when she seemed to forget the hatred for me and appeared to be a mother towards me. She always said the same story to me ever since I can remember the night before she went on a deep space expedition or left Earth for whatever reason. Those were the best times," Jim let his gaze lift to the ceiling, blue eyes twinkling in a way Spock could not deny looked appreciating.

"She called it ' _In The Moondust_ '," Jim informed the attentive half-Vulcan beside him, appearing like Jim's words were water to a dehydrated man. "It was about a star meeting another star. The first star, Khiori, falls in love with Lasha, the second star. However, their love is forbidden for it was against universal law for stars to have a romantic relationship. But they continued their love in secret."

"Eventually, Lasha's mother, the Heavenly Priestess, finds about their forbidden adoration for each other," Jim suddenly sat up, vision going dizzy for a moment before it subsided. "She is angry, and they are punished for their crime. Lasha is taken away from her lover and is locked away from the sky and into the heavens. Khiori is banished from the stars, and is sent to an eternity among the planes of Earth and the mortals that live there. Never to redeem himself and forever caged on the mortal side of the universe."

"The two star lovers, both in cages and prisons of their own, weep for centuries; destined to be despaired for the rest of their existence. However," Jim looked directly at Spock now, no longer looking drunk or inebriated, "crows of the Earth hear the cries and the misery the two stars held between inside and between each other. Unable to ignore, the crows take pity on the two star lovers and decide to help them. On the seventh day of the seventh month, the crows create a bridge from their own backs from the mortal plane to the heavens for the two star lovers to meet. To consume their love just for one night. Khiori and Lasha dance together for the rest of the night, and say a fond farewell until the next time they see each other."

Jim smiled, reminiscing as the few good childhood memories he had flittered behind his eyes. "They might spend an eternity lusting for the other, but they are given one night for it. However, Khiori is mortal, with a mortal lifespan, and Lasha can only watch as her lover wilts and ages beyond herself. She begs her mother to be there for when Khiori breathes his last, but the Heavenly Priestess denies her wish."

"Lasha is powerless as she is forbidden to go to his bedside, and is heartbroken when the last word from Khiori's lips was her name. She wishes and pleads for the ache in her heart and the agony in her soul to fade; that she could give up her immortality for the pain to end."

Jim blinks as he sees something change in Spock's eyes; something softer, gentler, a warmth he has never seen before. He blinks, and the warmth is gone. Maybe he's seeing things as an result from his stressful and dreadful day.

"How does this story end?" Spock prompts when he doesn't continue. Jim was still rocked by what he saw, even if it was an stress-induced hallucination.

"Oh, where was I?" Jim glimpses at the ceiling before remembering, "Ah, yes. Lasha makes a wish - a shooting star if you will - and the universe responds, but not in the way you'd think."

"The pain does end, and the universe decides to be kind. The Heavenly Priestess has the most spiritual connection to the universe, but she hasn't got the power to control it." Jim takes a gulp of the Andorian Ale, ignorant of brown eyes softening in concern. "A loophole is found, and Khiori's mortal body changes into celestial atoms, to be scattered among space and will eventually be reborn into a star. After an eternity, Khiori is reborn into a star, and Lasha and Khiori meet once again - but this time Lasha has taken the role of Heavenly Priestess and abolishes the idea of forbidden love. Love is the most universal and powerful motivator in time and space."

Jim finishes the tale with a causal flick of his wrist, and Spock doesn't think as he gently holds the wrist. Jim jumps at the contact, startled, and turns his face to look at the half-Vulcan. Spock can't help it as a shot, an electric shock if he will, travels up his arm and straight into his thrumming heart. Just like every time he touches Jim. He reluctantly removes his fragile grip after a few seconds. He felt bereft.

"I am...amendable to that story," Spock says after a long moment of silence.

"You mean you liked it?" The captain asks with a shy smile, blue eyes twinkling in the low lighting.

Spock swallows. "Affirmative." Spock could feel his lips quirking up from one side, and didn't try to suppress it. "I am particularly pleased about the help the crows had given the two lovers."

"Yeah," Jim grins, leaning back in his seat, "that's why they're my favourite type of bird. Most think they're birds of death. But they remind me that love is possible and so is the support of friends."

"Indeed," Spock naturally agrees, peeking at the blonde out the corner of his eye. Crows will now remind the half-Vulcan of how friendship and loyalty can help the human next to him, but he desires to be more. More like a star.

~×~

The theme for the party was a White Christmas; a theme which, Jim, grudgingly, will admit was spot on. Sulu and his Christmas committee must've spent hours of their free time decorating the rec room as it was covered in the Christmas spirit. The walls had blue, purple and white tinsels hanging along them, multicoloured paper chains pinned to the tables dotted inside the rec room, and luminous fairy lights dangled from the ceiling.

A white Christmas tree was in the centre of the room, wrapped presents placed under it, and a smaller version of the Enterprise was on top of the tree where the star was supposed to go. Tree decorations were perched at the end of the branches, and Jim idly taps a tiny version of a tricorder swinging from a branch in the middle. He wonders if Bones had anything to do with this. He did think he saw a tiny medkit decoration with the words 'Jim's Allergies' in red lettering near the top of the tree.

The crew members attending the party were either dancing to the Christmas music or huddling together in groups of their friends. Jim smiled when he saw an lonely crew member being invited by a group of friends. Looks like his crew truly did care for one another. He felt pride bubble up inside him.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Captain?" A voice Jim has longed for, has always longed for, made him jump and spin round to see the raised elegant eyebrow Spock was infamously known for. "Did I startle you, Sir?"

"No, Spock." He denies; maybe he should make it an order for sneaky half-Vulcans to wear a bell round his neck. That would be pretty hard to explain to Starfleet Command when they asked why the Commander was being treated like a pet cat. "And it's Jim, Spock. I think parties that don't need diplomatics are an informal occasion." _Especially when everyone could see Scotty's terrible dancing and Sulu pretending to find Chekov's 'things invented in Russia' game funny._

"I see." Spock lowered his eyebrow. "I must repeat my earlier inquiry: are you enjoying yourself, Jim?"

Jim's insides flip at the half-Vulcan using his name. He internally restrains himself. It wouldn't do him any good if his unrequited love for the first officer was exposed. "I've never been a fan of this." He admits, trying to sound casual.

Spock's brown eyes turned quizzical. "Indeed?" The half-Vulcan's curiosity was audible in his voice. Maybe a touch of incredulity in there if he strained his hearing.

"Never done the whole Christmas thing." He reluctantly tells the curious first officer. "My family weren't a big fan of it. Christmas is about family, and we had one member missing." No need to elaborate - everyone knew about his heroic, self-sacrificing dead father.

"Would it be more preferable for you to leave this typically festive occasion?" Spock questions after a minute, oddly sounding concerned. Or maybe it was his own imagination. It has been happening for a while now, Jim thinks.

"Yes actually," Jim affirms, putting down his empty glass and pulls down his red plaid shirt and gestures for Spock to go first. Spock snaps his gaze to the captain before moving towards the door, Jim right on his heels.

"So, anyway, did you ever-"

"Oi, oi, Commander! Captain!" Scotty shouts, instantly catching Jim's and Spock's attention. "Don't move a muscle!"

Jim turns and frowns at the approaching Scotsman. "Scotty...?"

Uhura, who was balancing herself on the Scotsman's shoulder, grins bashfully; a grin that made Jim start to panic. "Look up."

He does, and instantly curses in seven different languages; two Earth languages, and the other five included Romulan, Klingon, and surprisingly, Vulcan. Well, Ancient Vulcan. Modern Vulcan doesn't find it logical to have curses.

There was a bunch of mistletoe pinned to the doorway. Of course he doesn't remember the Christmas tradition of kissing under the plant. It's not like he's never done it before, he thinks internally with sarcasm. He's normally so observant of these things - years of avoiding doorways during the holidays had came from his time in the Academy. He curses himself again when he sees Spock notice the mistletoe and doesn't immediately step aside.

"And what is the significance of having _viscum album_ in the threshold?" Spock's deadpan tone just made Jim tense, stiffening when Spock gave the blonde puzzled eyes. No way, no fucking way is the half-Vulcan expecting him to explain. He could already feel his cheeks flushing at the idea.

"Why, Mr. Spock, it's tradition to catch two people under it and the two have to kiss!" Scotty's grin turned cheeky. "Or you get bad luck for seven years."

"Monty, I think that's mirrors," Uhura whispers to the Scotsman.

Scotty frowns. "Is it? Ah, well; the kissing part is true though." Scotty claps his hands and rubs them together. "Right, boys. Kiss already!"

Jim knows his cheeks are aflame when Spock glimpses at him. " _Shut up, Scotty!_ " He hisses, flush darkening at the increasing attention they were receiving. He didn't need this - didn't need anyone to figure out that he pined after his half-Vulcan first officer.

The tension between the four stifles any atmosphere and Jim is squirming under all three's gazes when he sees Bones and thinks he's saved. But of course the doctor just winks and stands on the opposite side of Scotty, demonstrating whose side he was on. Goddamned Bones' and his goddamned annoying gossipy tendacies.

"Yes; go on, Jim." The doctor smirks. "Kiss the Vulcan."

" _Shut up, Bones!_ " Jim hisses in indignation and embarrassment. Bones was the only person who knew about his unhealthy attraction to the half-Vulcan, and it seems the doctor is taking pleasure in worsening the situation. Jim hopes the doctor backs down from his hard glare.

If anything, the doctor's smirk widens as his eyes glint with mirth. "Go on. Or are you a coward?"

"Oh, you would like that, wouldn't you? You son of a bit-" he is cut off when hot lips press against his. His eyes widen when he realises it was Spock kissing him, _Spock was kissing him!_

And after dreaming for months of the half-Vulcan, of the half-Vulcan kissing him, straddling him, Jim couldn't help but become compliant in the delicious sensation of Spock's lips. His mouth was considerably soft, and when Spock's _goddamned tongue_ entered his own mouth he tasted candy canes.

Spock's hand was at his nape, and the other was traveling up his left torso, making Jim shudder. A slight moan leaves his mouth, and he is so surprised that he jumps back from Spock, arms prevailing into the air before he can consciously stop them. Jim snaps his gaze to the half-Vulcan, and is awarded with a greenish flush blooming on the first officer's face. He would've felt smug if he wasn't so shocked and if his own face wasn't feeling so flushed.

"I believe I have demonstrated my intentions towards you." And Spock had the bloody gull to blush even more. "If my actions have affected in a negative way, then please proceed to inform me. I do not intend to offend you."

Jim rolls his eyes and fists the front of the dark blue sweater Spock was wearing. "For god sake, Spock. _I love you,_ dammit." The blonde pulls the half-Vulcan towards him and ignores the many gasps he hears as he smashes his mouth against Spock's.

It's not until they were locked in each other's eyes and lips that they heard ferocious clapping and loud cheering. Spock is the first to pull away this time and both captain and commander blush's darken as the entire rec room cheered and wolf whistled. And if Spock tangled their hands amongst the cheering, nobody mentioned it.

~×~

It's much later, _way_ later after the party has finished, when Jim says goodnight to a smug Bones and a drunk Sulu and singing Chekov and leaves the rec room, conscious of the fact his first officer is following him. They make it to the turbolift before Spock shoves him against the wall of the lift. Jim gasps as a fire-hot tongue is plunged into his mouth and he groans as he feels Spock's half-hard anatomy.

"Goddamnit, Spock," Jim breathes as he felt his arousal stir, particularly in his pants. His clothes suddenly felt tight, and he knew he or Spock didn't want to potentially scar anyone, especially the person looking over security for the day, with having sex in the turbolift.

"Spock, we gotta stop. _Spock!_ " He snaps when the half-Vulcan just ignores him and continues to grind into him. Jim sighs as he throws his head back, wondering how did everything just became _too_ _fast_ for him. He was James fucking Kirk, and nothing was 'too fast' for him. Specifically when sex was on the table.

The turbolift stops and opens on the officer's deck, and Jim knows Spock let's him drag the half-Vulcan towards the Captain's Quarters because Spock had more strength than his human captain. But Spock must be excited because he did the not-impatient impatient look he gives when things weren't going quick enough.

The door opens to Jim's quarters and the blonde is about to enter when a hot hand on his shoulder stopped him. He spins and faces Spock, eyebrow raised in questioning.

"I have something I intended in giving you recently. Please require me with enough time to retrieve it from my quarters." Spock gave him these cute and adorable warm brown eyes and Jim instantly caves, despite his rising arousal. He finally has Spock in his grasp, and he won't ever, ever, frighten him off.

The blonde is sat on his bed when Spock comes back, black box in hand. The door slides shut, and the silence wasn't awkward like Jim anticipated, it was oddly pleasant. Spock shifts to his bed, neatly sinking in front of Jim, dark irises taking in the image of his captain - his intended.

"It is a ancient Vulcan tradition to gift their intended with a symbol only the two individuals understand the purpose behind such a gift." Spock looks down at the black box in his lap, slender fingers gripping the edge of the gift box tightly. It was illogical to anticipate Jim's reaction to his gift; yet his stomach could not stop clenching and his lungs felt less than at their full functioning capacity.

Jim takes the black box, taking a moment to stroke the purple ribbon, before delicately untying the satin band. He sets the ribbon aside and glances up to see Spock staring at him with anticipation, uncertainty and hope. _This gift must mean a lot to him_ , Jim thinks as he removes the lid and looks inside.

His eyes widen as he hastily glances back at the half-Vulcan. Spock seems to take in his reaction and analysis it to the atom, before his eyes drop to the open gift, long fingers grasping the item inside. A _clink_ is heard as a chain comes into view, with a black crow on the end of it. Spock moves his fingers and another, identical black necklace appears.

"I saw these during our last shore leave." Spock informs the stunned blonde. "They reminded me of the childhood story you divulged to me several weeks ago. After I initially brought these necklaces, I came to the conclusion that I cherished you beyond comprehension. And beyond my life."

Jim says nothing as he turns his body and gestures for Spock to put on one of the necklaces. He shivers when he feels Spock's pale fingers gently touch his skin, expertly tying the necklace to his neck. He looks down at the black crow in front of him, snugly fitting just underneath the hollow of his neck.

"This is beautiful," he whispers in the darkness of the room, forcing back the tears building in his eyes. Nobody has ever given him something so meaningful, so sincere before. It makes his throat tighten. "Now, let me put yours on."

Spock raises his eyebrow teasingly but does turn his back, handing over the twinned necklace, deliberately making physical contact. Jim faintly remembers hearing something about erogenous zones and hands - but he doesn't care enough to recall completely as he ties the other necklace round Spock's neck. He snaps the connection together and lets his hand traverse to the black crow, delighting in the way Spock's breathing become more laboured.

"I have nothing for you." Jim whispers guiltily into the half-Vulcan's deliciously pointy ears as he curls his fingers round the crow. Seeing Spock wearing the twin was making Jim's heart soften, and it softened even more when the half-Vulcan's soulful brown eyes turn gentle.

"I have you, _t'hy'la_." The half-Vulcan says, his lips quirking up at the sides. He turns his head to the side, a hairbreadth away from Jim's lips. "That is more than enough."

As Jim feels Spock's lips press against his and the half-Vulcan's hot hand trailing under his pants, Jim acquiesces that maybe he can like Christmas. _Maybe._

If Spock was there for the rest of them.

 


End file.
